"You're just volunteering to kill this human?"

Charlie shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, I'm just not as picky about picking off small-fry as you are. You see a lack of a challenge, I see a fun little diversion."

Xiphias shook his head, "Fine. Do with him as you will, as long as he's dead at the end of it."

Charlie elbowed the door behind him and it immediately started spurting small jets of water through the leaks. Charlie crouched down as if he were about to dive into the deep end. "Fishman Karate: Speeding Sea Bullet!" Suddenly, the doors behind him burst open as a wall of water rushed forward with Charlie riding it. As soon as he realized the situation, Hammie tried undoing the clasp on the rope, but it was too little too late. Charlie and the wave slammed into Hammie dead-on, the wave knocking them both through the wall, out the pagoda, and into the sea.


The first crash Hammie felt was the concentrated tidal wave plus one full-bodied fishman slamming into him.

The second was when his back went through several layers of wall.

The third was when he crashed into the water, which at this height might as well have been solid ground except instead of stopping, Hammie's body kept falling.

The final crash was when Hammie was slammed into solid earth at the bottom of the bay.

Every part of his body writhed in pain, all of his senses were disoriented, and as his eyes adjusted in the water he could barely make out the speeding torpedo some distance away, circling around for another pass. His body quickly realizing the sudden lack of air in the immediate vicinity, Hammie instinctively swam straight up, only for a blur speeding by to knock him back down. By the time his brain and eyes could reorient themselves and decide which way was up, the blur would come back around and hit Hammie again like an underwater truck. Hammie tried to focus, to think clearly, but his entire brain screamed for air, as he hadn't even had the chance to take a breath when he was thrown into the ocean. Only by focusing on a whining noise that pierced the waters could Hammie try to regain focus. The noise went in and out of focus, and as Hammie's ears stopped ringing, he could barely make out the fishman's words that went in and out of focus as he sped by Hammie each time, but somehow rang out clearly even under the ocean waters.

"…at's the matter, there, huma…"

"…eed a breath of fresh ai…"

"…ope you can hold your breath a long ti…"

Only when Hammie crashed into the ocean floor again could he start to make sense of things. Okay, up. Up's the exact opposite of where I just went.

Hammie adjusted himself again, willing himself to at least stand on the ocean floor for now. His brain was screaming and his lungs were burning, but he had to ignore them for now. The speeding blur stopped in its tracks some distance away. The fishman from earlier. What did that other guy call him? Charlie? Does this guy ever shut up?

"Aw, come on, what's the matter, tuckered out already? I can understand having to catch your breath, but that's pretty difficult where you're standing," the fishman grinned, "See, that's just one advantage of me being a fishman. I can breathe with my gills and not have to stop talking or anything. I can literally do this all day long."

I guess not. I'm going to need something special if I want to get past this guy, so how about… where are my tools? Hammie reached for his tool belt, only to find nothing there. Crap! Must've been knocked loose when he hit me. It could be still on the barge or anywhere on the ocean floor. I've got nothing to work with!

"If it were any other fishman, you might be able to pull a fast one on them and manage to get up to the surface long enough for a breath or two. They're kind of stupid like that," Charlie continued to ramble, "You see, a regular sea tuna can swim with the speed and velocity of a bullet, so take that, add the old evolutionary fishman muscle behind it, and you get something more akin to a torpedo that just keeps coming and coming after you, but if you're not going to come up here, then I guess I'll just come down to your level!" Suddenly, Charlie started to snap his fingers in rhythm, or at least something close to rhythm, "Because while I can't tune a pi~an~oooo~!" The fishman launched downward, turning once again into a speeding blur, this time racing across the ocean floor at Hammie. Instead of just a hit-and-run, this time the blur caught Hammie head-on, taking him with it, as Hammie once again lost his orientation as his back crashed through rock several times, the whole time the torpedo crushing his gut was singing in an even more warped sound, "I am a tunaaaaa fiiiiiiiish~maaaaaaaaaaaaaan." Finally, Hammie was slammed back into the ground and the blur sped away again, still singing. "I think I hear an encore coming on!"

Hammie's vision started to blur and shift colors. Ow… Got to focus… Okay, what… what just happened? Trying to shake off yet another possible concussion, Hammie looked up to see several large narrow rocks falling in the distance. Those rock formations in the bay. He must have taken me for a tour straight through them. Looking around, Hammie found himself in a forest of various rock and coral spire formations. I can work with this. What else do I know? Hammie's eye caught the blur some distance away as it was just arcing around for another pass. He doesn't attack me head-on when I'm on the ground. He first gets some distance so he's swimming parallel to the ground. He must not be able to make sharp turns when he's attacking. Hammie quickly swam up this time, the plan forming in his head as he kept his eye on Charlie making his way around. Just a little closer.

Charlie watched as Hammie swam alongside of the stone spires, "Aw, how cute, the little human thinks he's going to pull a fast one on me. Let me guess. Swim out of the way at the last second and I unknowingly crash right into the stone pillar and knock myself out, is that it, little human?" Charlie taunted as, right on cue, Hammie turned to face Charlie and waited in the water, "There's just one problem with your little plan. I can go straight through these rocks with no trouble at all!" Just as Charlie predicted, Hammie pushed himself straight up in just enough time for the fishman to miss him and plow straight through the stone tower, boulders flying in all directions from the impact. Charlie stopped a good distance away to watch his handiwork. "I wonder how many rocks he got hit with. I hope the tower falls on him this time too," Charlie smiled as he surveyed his handiwork, but couldn't see the human amongst the rubble, "Where did…?" Charlie glanced upward to see one of the larger coral pieces from the crash floating quickly towards the surface with Hammie clutching onto it for dear life. "Well, I'll be a sea monkey's uncle…" Charlie raced upward, determined to cut the human off before he reached the surface.

The quick pressure change hit Hammie like a constant punch in the gut. His vision blurred even more, but the surface was still only moments away. Almost there… He couldn't see Charlie, but already knew the fishman was racing to catch him. Grasping the top of the coral rock, Hammie thrusted it down, propelling himself upward and luckily catching Charlie with the debris as well. Charlie burst through the coral without a problem, but slowed down just enough. Hammie was only feet away from the surface as Charlie reached out to grab the human's leg.

With a loud gasp, Hammie erupted from the water, inhaling like a roaring lion in reverse. Not two seconds later, Hammie's leg was yanked back under as he barely kept from inhaling a gallon of water. His entire body still burned in agony, but at least the somewhat less strain on his lungs made the experience a relief overall. His brain could at least start to think clearly again. This time, instead of letting the fishman take him for another ride, Hammie swung his leg and Charlie was flung off, spinning wildly. Now stable in the water, Hammie for the first time was able to distinguish a distinct pressure on his forehead, one that actually didn't stem from an injury. He felt his forehead to find his goggles. Hammie smiled, sliding the goggles down without letting water in, the ocean turned from a shadowy, foggy blue to crystal clear, right down to the panicked look on Charlie's face. Hammie slammed his fists together in anticipation. Round two…


"You shouldn't have gotten greedy," stepping from a nearby office, the translucent, dreadlocked fishman from the bar. "I don't really care if someone's snooping around or not, but I can't have my med supplies bein' raided, mon."

The pain was spreading, and Doc instantly recognized the symptoms. "A neurotoxin?"

"That's right, mon." From his 'dreadlocks', the fishman extended several long, blue tendrils, "I'm Dr. Mambo, the jellyfishman doctor of the Tiburones Gemelos, and I can no longer let ya leave here alive."


Doc collapsed into a crumpled heap, prompting the jellyfishman to pick him up and help him into a small chair. "It's a paralytic toxin my body secretes. In small doses it just flares de nerves, causing loss of movement. In large concentrations, it can be fatal. In de dose, you've taken, it'll be enough to numb your whole body. Hopefully, dat will make t'ings less painful for you when dis room floods."

The only motor control Doc had left was for his head and neck. He might as well have been strapped to the chair or encased in cement. The only thing he could still do is speak. "I don't get it. If you're going to all this trouble, why not just kill me?"

"Don't wanna, mon," Mambo shrugged.

Doc's thoughts raced through the possibilities, "Experiments, then? Torture?"

Mambo laughed, "No, not'ing dat sinister. Killing's just against my morals. Man of healing and all."

"So you're going to leave me to drown? That doesn't sound like it'd fit the whole 'man of healing' bit."

"All killing is against my morals, including euthanasia," Mambo started packing away various tools and medicines away in cabinets, locking them tight, and strapping down furniture as water began to pool the room, "If there was a way I could save you, I would. But if any of the others found out I let a human go, I'd be in the same position as Brody," he explained somberly, "I truly am sorry for me cowardice, but there's little I can do but try to ease your pain some."

"In that case," Doc sighed, "Mind granting a dying man a last request?"

"If it be wit'in me power, sure."

"A cigar would be great, for starters," said Doc hopefully.

Mambo shook his head. "Sorry, mon. I don't carry around dose toxic t'ings."

"It's okay. I have some in my left jacket pocket. It's just a little hard to reach them in my current state. Would you mind?" Doc grinned, "It's not like it'll set off a fire alarm or anything. The flood will put it out when it puts me out." Mambo sighed, reaching into the jacket pocket with one of his tendrils, pulling out a small cigar case and a lighter, obliging the Doc's request as he puffed the newly lit cigar. "Much-obliged."

"Is that all, then?" asked Mambo.

"Well, I could use some conversation to pass my last few moments on this mortal coil," said Doc.

"And what, praytell, should we talk about? The weather?"

"I'd like to know why I'm going to drown on a fishman barge on an island in the middle of nowhere. Even death row inmates know why they're going to be executed."

Mambo paused, "Very well, I suppose that's de least you deserve…" The jellyfishman sat across from Doc, just as the slowly rising water was becoming ankle deep.


Charlie couldn't get a clean hit on Hammie anymore. This time, when he got close, even with his velocity, the human would kick or swat him away, or at the very least would swim just enough out of the way that Charlie would only land a glancing blow. A few times, the human even managed to grab Charlie as he rocketed past, throwing him at the nearest hard surface. Each time, Charlie managed to correct himself before hitting anything, but each time he also stopped a little closer to the ocean floor or a nearby rock spire. I don't get it. He only got the one breath and hasn't even attempted to go up for more since. He should've been dead a long time ago. He shouldn't even have any strength in the water, but he's tossing me around like a ragdoll. If anything, he seems to be getting stronger. Charlie paused, considering a better approach, as he saw Hammie resume swimming again, this time straight down towards him. "All right, this isn't funny anymore. Time to get serious." Charlie's hands moved intricately in the water, as it seemed to bend around him, "You thought I was fast before? That was just my natural swim speed. I can propel myself even further with some well-placed Fishman Karate moves." Spinning in place, the fishman slowly transformed into a miniature underwater vortex. "Fishman Karate: Corkscrew Torpedo!" Charlie launched forward, now less of a blur and more of a spiral blue streak.

He's fa- This time, there was no chance to dodge. The living missile slammed straight into Hammie's gut. How the- For a split second, Hammie thought his chest would split open before he was knocked to the side. Before he could react, his back was struck the same way. Once again, Hammie was disoriented as Charlie collided with him several times a second from multiple angles. Okay- SLAM! Enough of- SLAM! Stop it- SLAM! You've gotta- SLAM! SLAM! SLAM!

Frustrated, Hammie punched a random direction, and sure enough, struck the missile as it passed, the spiraling currents dissipating into... nothing.

"Oops! Looks like our contestant guessed wrong," Charlie floated some distance away, grinning confidently.

When did he- SLAM! As Hammie was struck in the back again, Charlie doubled over laughing, never having moved from his spot.

"If I can get the water to propel me with that kind of force, why shouldn't I be able to propel the water itself as a weapon? Fishman Karate: Torpedo Frenzy! Charlie launched himself again, but instead of one missile, there were three, each indistinguishable from each other as they launched at Hammie from multiple angles.

No opening! SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! The barrage of water missiles hit Hammie from all sides, each returning too quickly to give Hammie any respite.

"It's only fitting, really," Charlie taunted, "I sunk the ship, I might as well sink the shipwright! Hey, there's a song in that somewhere!"

Damn- SLAM! Hammie's arm lunged out again, unable to pick a direction, but still managed to grab a missile as it dissipated into harmless water. it- SLAM! As another missile knocked him in the shoulder and shot downward, Hammie kicked up and caught the second water missile on the nose, destroying it as well. I'm-SLAM! His other arm reached out and grabbed the third missile, this time catching hold of Charlie, stopping the spinning in its tracks. CAPTAIN! Grappling Charlie by the arms even as the fishman still shot forward, Hammie jerked and forced Charlie's trajectory down. Let's see how you like ramming into the dirt!

The ocean floor rapidly grew closer, but Charlie would have none of it, "Hey! Free rides are for the ladies only!" Charlie spun as fast he could, Hammie spinning with him and holding on for dear life. Faster and faster until he was a self-contained miniature whirlpool. Finally, Hammie's grip failed and the human was hurled across the bay. Barely righting himself in time to slide on the ocean dirt, Charlie grimaced as he watched Hammie still hurtling off in the distance. Charlie kicked the dirt in annoyance, "Great, now I have to go get him. This is becoming less than entertaining. I better find a way to finish him off soon."

Hammie wished he could just right himself mid-trajectory like the fishman. Instead, his body rushed through the water, until finally colliding with the ground. This impact stung a lot more than the others, and at first Hammie figured the bruises were finally starting to pile up and hurt. When he looked around, he found himself in the middle of a sunken ship, along with the him-shaped hole he entered through. The wreck was barely recognizable in its current state, but a quick glance at the splintered stump where a mast should be, Hammie realized this was his own ship, or at least the marine's ship he'd temporarily commandeered. Only a moment remained until Charlie would arrive and the fight would continue, but that was all Hammie needed. This… this I can work with… Hammie picked up a nearby broken trapdoor and quickly got into position.

"Come on, I know you're around here somewhere," Charlie scanned the area for his prey, "I must've thrown him farther than I thought." The fishman finally came across the shipwreck with a fresh sunroof. "Either he's hiding inside or he's finally dead." That's when Charlie noticed the human crawling out of one of the bottom holes in the ship, climbing up the outside hull. "Well, he's doing a pretty poor job of either. So let's fix that." Charlie started spinning as a watery vortex formed behind him. My strongest attack. I can't turn at all unlike my other attacks, so I've got to make this count. With this one, I'll split him in two and tear through that boat like a bullet through butter, and the best part is in his sorry state he'll never see it coming. Let's see how well you can hold your breath with only half of each lung. "Fishman Karate:" Charlie launched himself with the giant whirlpool trailing behind him, "Magnum Torpedo!" Even if he manages to dodge, at this angle he'll just get buried alive by the ship's debris.

Only meters away, Hammie suddenly pushed himself upward, just in the nick of time as Charlie crashed into the boat with a muted thoomp instead of a loud crash. The shockwave from the impact sent Hammie flying, though not as far as last time. He immediately turned towards the boat, and Charlie's silhouette gradually appeared.

When the dust finally settled, Hammie saw Charlie's flailing body, but only his body, as his head was now stuck in the barrel of a sunken cannon.

Worked like a charm. If he had seen me in front of an actual porthole he might not have taken the bait. With the trapdoor to cover it though, he was none the wiser. Hammie smiled and admired his handiwork. Can't help but think I'm forgetting something though… Oh, that's right. AIR! Hammie frantically swam towards the surface, but something in the back of his mind nagged at him. Turning around, he saw that the fishman's body, still stuck in the cannon, had gone his better judgment, Hammie started to speculate about the situation.

Fishman = fish + man = gills + lungs. Obviously, they use lungs to breathe above the surface and their gills underwater. His gills are on his neck. His neck is currently stuck in a thick iron cannon. Hammie's wheels suddenly clicked. He's suffocating down there! Hammie's own lungs screamed in protest, but once again ignoring his immense desire to not drown, Hammie swam back down to the shipwreck. Fortunately, his body, in desperation to get above ground, was working his adrenaline in overdrive. Hammie swam through the porthole, pushed the cannon out of the ship, and then swam back towards shore, dragging the cannon and Charlie with him.

Hammie erupted from the water, inhaling all the air his lungs could possibly hold for the third and probably not last time that day. All the pain and exhaustion finally hit him at once and he collapsed on the beach, the water still licking his feet. Pulling Charlie and his new headgear up as well, Hammie took a look inside the barrel of the cannon. "Please tell me you're breathing, because there are so very many reasons I don't want to give you CPR."

Hammie couldn't even see anything inside the cannon it was so dark, but a voice equally as exasperated as him echoed through the cannon. "Why…" Charlie spoke too soon, needing a bit more oxygen than the cramped cannon would allow, "What would possess you to save me?"

Satisfied with the cannon's response, Hammie lie back on the beach next to Charlie, finally catching his breath, "Call me old-fashioned, but from where I come from, when you see someone drowning, the polite thing to do is to NOT let them drown."

The cannon was silent for a moment. "No, really. I just tried to kill you in the most hilarious (to me at least) way possible. What makes you think I won't just kill you once I get up and out of this thing?"

"You didn't do a very good job of that the first time. Why should I believe you'll do better next time?" replied Hammie nonchalantly.

The cannon was silent again, "Touché. You humans are weird."

"Hey, I'm not the one trying to kill their old boss because you disagree with his lifestyle choice."

"Are you serious? Do you even know anything about Brody or that girl or anything about Jaggerjaw?" said Charlie, offended.

"Look, I get the whole interspecies thing is kind of weird. Not sure I could go for that kind of thing myself, but really, what's the harm in it as long as they're both happy?"

"As if we'd get so worked up over a little forbidden romance!" Charlie shouted, quickly regretting it since he too was trying to breathe normally again.

"Then what?" asked Hammie.

"That girl is a murderer!"


The water was about knee deep as Mambo cranked a valve on the wall until finally the water calmed down. "Dat should do it," the jellyfishman resumed organizing medical instruments and pharmaceutical bottles as Doc sat paralyzed from the neck down in a chair, "This is one of the few rooms that can stop the water flow, since there are sensitive equipment and sanitation concerns."

"Not that I'm complaining, but weren't you going to let me drown?"

"The line between killing and letting someone die is so blurry sometimes, I often have trouble seeing where it is," said Mambo, his speech becoming more articulate as he relaxed, "The more I think about it, you might have a slight chance to escape at some point, though I honestly can't fathom how. If you can escape in a way that doesn't get me in Captain Brody's chains, then I'm sure not going to stop you. If one of the others should come along, I'll just say I couldn't have the infirmary flood for the moment, and you'll still be paralyzed so I won't be under suspicion," Mambo turned to his captive, "Besides, you said you wanted to know our story, and it's a long one."

Doc slightly shrugged, not really able to do anything else at the moment, "I'm all ears."

Mambo went over to a collection of small photographs, picked one up with a tendril, and held it in front of Doc's face, "Look at this picture."

Doc studied it carefully. It was a group shot of a group of fishmen and humans. He could recognize a much younger Mambo and Brody. There was also the tuna fishman from the bar, a swordfishman, a few boys who Doc thought he recognized as the bartender and some members of the crowd from earlier, and others. In the center of the group were two girls, one a smiling fishwoman, the other a flat-chested human girl with a cigarette in her mouth and wearing a leather jacket. The fishwoman was smiling for the camera and held the human girl in a headlock as the human angrily struggled. All in all, the whole shot seemed like a friendly gathering, and the two girls seemed to horse around like sisters. Looking closer, Doc recognized the angry human girl, "Is… is that Wendy?"

"Yeah, that's her back in the day. Real troublemaker that one. Now see the girl in the middle?" The tendril pointed to the older fishwoman holding Wendy for the picture. She actually had very few "unique" physical traits for a fishwoman, slightly discolored skin, gills, webbed hands, and lips that were slightly thicker than average, but on the whole a very attractive young woman who could probably have passed for human if she wanted to.

Doc looked over the fishwoman's fit figure, large chest, and casual clothing. She had toned muscles and the type of universally friendly smile that could make anyone feel better about their day. "Doesn't look half-bad for a fish."

"That's Linda, a lungfish fishwoman. She didn't have a rank among the Tiburones Gemelos, but everyone looked up to and respected her. She was the heart and soul of the entire crew, and she's at the center of our story.

"We first came to this island five years ago. Brody was still captain back then, obviously, but he never did anything without Linda. Brody would simultaneously try to let everyone speak their mind, then become aggressive and combative over his opinions and orders, so there were a lot of fights between crew members, and even some of the humans. Linda, however, seemed to always know the right words to say to get everyone to calm down, and everyone loved her."

Doc looked over the picture again, "Wendy sure doesn't seem to feel that way here."

"She may not look it now, but back when we first arrived, Wendy was the rowdiest delinquent you'd ever seen, and the least trustful of all the humans. She would always cause trouble, turn around and blame us. More than once she unsuccessfully tried to get the town to riot against us."

It was more difficult for Doc to recognize the Wendy he'd met in person and the Wendy from Mambo's story and picture as the same, "That really doesn't seem like the girl I met."

"She's changed a lot. Mostly thanks to Linda. Of all the humans, Wendy was her personal pet project. Linda always treated her like a little sister. She wanted to be Wendy's best friend and wouldn't take no for an answer. When Linda wasn't dropping by her place unannounced with cookies and tea, she was throwing away Wendy's cigarettes and scolding her. Eventually, Wendy gave up, and the two became nearly inseparable," said Mambo with nostalgia.

"All right, I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, because there's no way that's the whole story."

Mambo sighed, "Correct. About two years ago, a visitor came to the island. A doctor in a coat not unlike yours, except black."

"A doctor in a black coat?" The image those words conjured in Doc's mind was familiar if hazy.

"His name was Dr. Wilhelm Cancer," Mambo explained.

"THE Dr. Cancer?" The name was definitely familiar to Doc, and pretty much anyone who learned any medical history in their lifetime.

"Yes. He was a very intimidating man, and his name didn't help. As you know, it was his ancestor that discovered the disease of his namesake and it's his family line that advances the most research towards possible treatments and cures."

"So what was a famous doctor doing on a boondock island like this one?" Doc asked.

"He said he was traveling the world on sabbatical, furthering his research by studying and treating patients around the world. He never smiled or showed much emotion, but he was nonetheless very charismatic, and by the end of the week was on a first-name basis with everyone, human or fishman. When he wasn't seeing patients, he would often invite me personally over for academic discussions. He taught me more than any medical textbook ever could. Then, only a few days after he left, the first symptoms started to appear…" Suddenly, there was hesitation in Mambo's voice.

"The plague, right?"

The jellyfishman looked up in surprise, "How did you…?"

"It's kind of obvious. The ghost town village. The boarded up houses. The quarantined, burned-out building. The absence of anyone too young or too old to be able to survive such a thing. Once you recognize the symptoms the cause becomes apparent."

"I suppose so,"

"So what was it? Smallpox? Polio? Bubonic?" guessed Doc.

"Worse," Mambo said darkly as he sat down in another chair, "The disease itself was unidentifiable, as symptoms differed greatly from person to person. One person would cough until blood filled their lungs. Another would grow boils and sores all over his body. Some just went mad. Conventional treatments were useless. The only reason I was able to save anyone was because of what the Doctor had taught me in our short time. It almost seemed as if minor ailments that the townsfolk had were increased tenfold, until even the slightest cold became a lethal supervirus. So many humans died in my care… So many begged for death until I put them out of their misery… And for the majority at least, I was powerless to save them..." Mambo's voice started to break.

"Nearly the entire human village was out of commission, but none of the fishmen would come close to the village, save myself and Linda, who tried to treat everyone and make everyone comfortable, with little success. Brody reluctantly helped as well, usually running errands and securing supplies for us."

"Let me guess, to protect Wendy?"

"No, actually," Mambo replied, much to Doc's confusion, "Oh, sure, Brody did his best to try and save anyone he could, but the real reason he was there was to look after Linda. The two were… well, let's just say Linda was a lot closer to Brody than she was to everyone else. Brody and Wendy, on the other hand, were always at each other's throats. Brody always preached peace with humans, but he had a temper that spoke otherwise.

"Wendy was one of the last people in the village to develop symptoms. Her lungs had developed tumors and were failing. Without an organ donor, she would have been dead in less than a week. On top of that, our blood supply was running dangerously low and many patients needed transfusions to survive. One night, Linda came to me and told me she was starting to show symptoms. She had looked fine up until that very moment, but she then asked me to do the impossible," Mambo hesitate again, the words coming more difficultly than before, "She wanted me to... end her pain," the jellyfishman trembled as he spoke, "It turned out despite their racial differences, Linda and Wendy were compatible donor matches. And Wendy would not survive long enough for Linda to pass on naturally.

"By that point, I had stopped euthanizing patients because I just couldn't do it anymore, no matter how much pain they were in. And of all people, Linda… I outright refused. There was too much death already. I couldn't do it anymore.

"That night, Brody and myself were working in the clinic which used to be the humans' town hall, when we heard a scream from the operating room…"


Brody burst open the door in fear with Mambo close behind…

Wendy was kneeling over the operating table, uncontrollably bawling. Lying on the table was a still body…

"No!" Brody rushed forward, shoving Wendy out of the way, and put his head to her chest. "She's still breathing! Quick, Mambo, we can save her!"

Mambo's eyes were fixated elsewhere at Linda's limp, open palm, holding a single empty syringe. Brody, following Mambo's gaze, cringed in horror. "What is that? Medicine?"

The jellyfishman carefully picked up the syringe, praying his intuition to be wrong, and read the label. "It's the venom I used for the dying patients… to… end their pain… I swear I thought I destroyed the last batch."

"No… No! Come on, there has to be an antidote… Something!" Brody's cries were silenced by Mambo somberly shaking his head.

"She took a whole dose. There's nothing we can do. She'll be gone in a few minutes, tops."

"Bro.. dy…" Both turned to see Linda's eyes weakly open as she smiled. Brody desperately leaned as close as he could, tears streaming down his face. Linda whispered something to Brody, exactly what Mambo couldn't make out from where he was. She leaned up to kiss Brody on the cheek, and then the light faded from her eyes, her smile never fading.

Brody roared in rage. Wendy lie on the floor in shock. Mambo could only stand helplessly and watch the pain, suffering, and death…

What must have been minutes of silence seemed like eternity, no one in the room moving a muscle. Finally, Brody stood up. "You know what she would have wanted…" He didn't say another word as he walked out of the room.


"I performed the surgery as Linda willed it. Wendy received both of Linda's lungs, and under careful supervision eventually made a full recovery, at least physically. Her blood even refilled our plasma supply and allowed a lot of humans to live through the plague. Everyone assumed she was just the first of many fishmen to be taken by the sickness. No one would be the same psychologically. Wendy's delinquent personality suddenly did a 180 and she became bright, friendly, and even stopped smoking. Brody started spending most of his time with Wendy without offering an explanation.

"Eventually, the epidemic was brought under control when the source was identified. Tell me, what do you know of the Devil Fruits?"

Doc's eyes widened as he realized the implications, "You don't mean…"

"The doctor in black who befriended us had unleashed this on us before he left. One of the patients with open sores went delirious and jumped into the ocean. When we found him, the majority of his blisters were healed. Once the idea formed in my head to treat it like a Devil Fruit power, I started alternative treatments with seawater and what little bits of Kairoseki Seastone we had on the island. My treatments worked, and proved my hypothesis. It wasn't a viable option for every patient, mind you, but that fact alone saved many lives, and also helped us to contain and wipe out the disease," Mambo continued, "We burned down the town hall where the infected bodies were and doused the flames with ocean water. Eventually, the plague was gone, but our problems weren't over.

"When the cause of the plague was discovered, it was reasoned that none of the fishmen probably couldn't even get sick by this plague. I was living proof, since I'd been treating the sick from day one and never developed so much as a cough. Brody neither. However, this only left the fishmen wondering what really happened to Linda…"


"…and that's when we all started to put the pieces together," Charlie narrated, his voice still echoing inside the cannon he was stuck in, Hammie lying on his back right beside him, "Look at all the evidence! First of all, when she was still with us, Linda abhorred suicide above all else. Considered it a coward's way out. She would actually beat people up for even joking about offing themselves. Second, that human didn't exactly like Linda very much before then. She would have died without the donated organs, and many of her fellow humans would have died without the extra blood in the bank. Third, Brody and that human were acting really odd, spending a lot of time together, alone ever since Linda died. Fourth, when we wanted to hold a trial for the human and figure things out, Brody outright refused. Said we were all crazy for even thinking about it. We even agreed to stop any unnecessary interspecies activities so we wouldn't go through another incident like that again, except for Brody because he didn't want to leave her alone, never mind that before the plague, the two hated each other. He chose that human over Linda, over us, over everything we'd worked for!"

"You know something?" Hammie rolled his eyes and stood up, dusting the sand off his clothes, "I'm getting my strength back, and I'm getting really sick of you talking. So I'm just going to go now and catch up with the others."

"Damn it, weren't you even paying attention?" the cannon yelled at him.

"Much to my regret, yes."

"Here I thought since you saved me I could reason with you. Don't you see? All the evidence points to that human girl murdering one of our own, getting away with it scott-free, and to top it off, getting Linda's man as some kind of twisted trophy. I wouldn't be surprised if Brody was an accomplice to Linda's murder!" Charlie said indignantly.

"Reason with me? You just tried to kill me!" Hammie scoffed.

"You're the ones who raided our home! For all we know, you're a bunch of mercenaries and assassins hired by Brody or that girl!" Charlie shouted before realizing just how pointless it was trying to argue in his state, "Besides, it's pointless for you to go now anyway. By the time you get across the island, your friends will have drowned if they weren't killed by my comrades first."

Hammie turned towards the prone, cannon-headed Charlie, annoyed, "You know what the real difference between you and me is? It's not that you can breathe underwater. It's that I don't lose faith in my friends just because things look bad," For once the loud-mouthed fishman was silent as Hammie turned to walk away, "Oh, and one other thing," Hammie turned back and kicked the cannon as hard as he could, letting the whole thing echo as Charlie's body shook with the resonation before going limp. Hammie yelled into the barrel. "I'M THE CAPTAIN!" Satisfied but still irritated, Hammie started making his way back to the bay, muttering to himself,"I hate that guy…"

To be continued…

Author's Notes:

New chapter woo…

Btw, if you notice a character's accent has vanished, that's not by accident. With some characters it's because they speak more articulately in certain circumstances, but the main reason is while accents can add an interesting bit of personality, they're a pain to both read and write for an extended period of time, especially for example when said character has to give exposition and backstory.